Quoth The Crippler, Nevermore!
by StOnE CoLd SaRaH
Summary: *whimpers* A Benoit ficcy. It's more less his diary and his thoughts.. Please R&R I need new friends!!!
1. Benoit'll talk your ear off, if you let ...

A/N: This is for Tracy *glares death rays at her* It's more or less Benoit's diary. Some of the dates might be wrong (I barely remeber what month it is now... You expect me to rememeber when Jericho and Benoit became buddies? Geez!) So I'm sorry for that. I own no one. I don't own Benoit or any other wrestlers. And for the sake of my story (and next chapters) Benoit isn't married. You'll see why later *happy giggle* And Benoit actually did say 'Quote The Crippler' when he was fighting Raven back in WCW *caw* *caw* I think that's it. Rock on!   
  
  
  
  
There he is. So cocky. So full of himself. Running around with those titles on his muscular shoulders.   
  
Wait. I should stop. This is beginning to sound like a Goldust promo.   
  
My name is Chris. Chris Benoit. And I'm watching my friend, Chris Jericho be a jackass on national television. My doctor told me I should start writing in this journal thingy (I am NOT going to refer to it as a 'diary' like she did, because that brings mental images of pink things and tea parties....)   
  
I guess I should explain my background. I was a WWF Superstar. Not only Superstar status, but the best damned technical wrestler in the world. I was trained by one of the greatest wrestling family in the world (the Hart's) and I'm a natural born Canadian (Which makes me extremely good, no matter what I do. What? I'm not *that* biased, am I?) I've worked hard all my life. From the Dungeons in Japan to the Mexican wrestling rings. From an under-appreciated wrestler/jobber in WCW, to stardom in WWF. I went from the toughest bastards to ever step into a ring to a cuddly wolverine. My entire outlook on life changed because of that man there, Chris Jericho.   
  
It was May of 2000. I hated Jericho. We used to have long, bloody, and brutal feuds in WCW. We honestly went out every night, hoping to kill the other. But, nowadays, I honestly can't even remember why we started hating each other.   
  
But, that was all in the past. In March I had broken free from the Radicalz and their destructive ways. So there I was have a little feud with Kurt Angle the Olympic Dork and being all by myself. I had no little group around me, and it was the greatest I had felt in a long time.   
  
But, I have been in this business long enough to realize that you only get ahead by watching anyone who could be your future opponent. And that's why I used to stay in my locker room and watch the rest of the show, even after I was done for the night. So, I was watching Jericho and Regal's little feud. I think Jericho pissing into Regal's tea was the funniest thing I ever seen. I don't think I've ever laughed so loudly.   
  
One day, Regal and Angle were double teaming on Jericho and I had been watching. I couldn't help myself and I ran out to help the poor guy. I, along with Jericho knocked the two ass clowns out of the ring. When Jericho finally realized who had helped him, he glared at me. And I glared right back at him. Neither one of us knew what to say, and when I finally left the ring, I felt Jericho's eyes boring into my back. Never looking away.  
  
I got into the back and went into my locker room to change. When I got out of the shower and walked out into my room, he was there. I felt extremely odd standing there (besides the fact that I *was* only wearing a towel) and because if I would have found him in my room a couple years earlier, I would have thought he was trying to plant a bomb or something. We both stood there for a couple of minutes, until he extended his hand and said thanks. I gave him one of my best witheringly stares, but he kept his hand out. I finally relented and allowed my tough guy exterior to fall and I took his hand and we shook.   
  
He smiled at me and I couldn't help it. I smiled back. "Glad to see your gap hasn't changed after all these years, Benyoit!" and we re-lived 'the good old times.' Isn't odd how the past seems better when you're looking back at it? But, it was less then fantastic when you were living it? Well, that's how Jericho and I though of our pasts. We became friends again.   
  
  
But, Vince didn't like us. We were renegades in his eyes. So what better why to break us up? By dangling a chance to be the WWF Champion in front of our eager little eyes. Of course we had to pin that scum bag Austin. But, this wasn't a tag team chance against him. Oh no. It was a Benoit vs. Jericho vs. Austin match. And as much as becoming friends was to Jericho and I, being the champion was (And still is) the most important thing to us. So during that Pay-Per-View, King Of The Ring in New Jersey, the Canadian Chris's friendship and reunited camaraderie was broken and shattered into a million billion pieces.   
  
Too match a long match short, Jericho got a couple good swigs at me and I got a couple at him. But, Austin got more shots at the two of combined and he kept his title and I hurt my neck. I don't think I hurt my neck in anyone particular part of the match. My neck had been hurting since teaming up with Chris (3 months before) and I guess all the pressure and pain of that match finally hurt my neck so bad that after the match I got checked out by the trainer. He told me to get myself to a hospital fast and the doctors told me I needed an operation.   
  
  
The doctors all told me I would never wrestle again after the surgery. But, I've never really been one to listen to quacks like them. So I recuperated and I trained harder then ever before. Many people always used to say that I trained much more unrelentingly then they ever would. So if *I* say it was hard.....   
  
All this time I got cards and letters from some of my new friends (cuz when I was a Radical, I wasn't exactly Mr. Social). Lita sent me flowers once a week and called a lot. When the WWF was in Canada, Edge and Christian (pre-break up obviously) came by my house to check up on me in person. Jeff and Matt sent cards too. And Jeff even sent some of his weird poetry he wrote for me. Hell, even Raven, a guy I had a loooong feud with in WCW sent me a sympathy card. Everyone but him. Jericho. That jerk. And now there he is. Smugly smiling at the camera. Pissing off the Rock and the hometown.   
  
You see, I don't mind that Jericho is all heel-like now. I know that his snide remarks are at his personal best when he's a heel. But since Jericho has never had the decency to call after the PPV, I can only gather from what the TV and Internet have told me about Jericho's latest moves. He sold himself to Vince. Vince McMahon, the man that the two of us spent almost 2 months fighting off his goons and henchmen. And now Jericho is one of his goons. Chris Jericho, every Jericholioics paragon of virtue, is now one of Vince's goons.   
  
  
During the Alliance garbage, I made sure I didn't contact JR or any upper management people because I didn't want to get involved. The way I saw it, you could pick one of two evils. I've dealt with both Shane and Vince before and trust me when I say that I don't want to deal with them ever again. I wonder what made Jericho like this. Or should I say who? The last time we were on speaking terms, he had a tiny crush on Lita. More brotherly then anything and he didn't do anything about it because of both of the Hardyz love for their girl Lita. And now that Matt is out of the picture, Jeff seems to be her Hardy of choice. So who could it be? Or maybe I'm going at it wrong. Maybe it was something else. It was more likely the gold that got to him. It made the WCW Jericho come out. He had him tuck away deep inside for the longest time. You remember WCW Jericho? I sure do. He was the one that had the tendency to cry if things didn't go his way. But, in-between all that cry and tantrum throwing was the undeniable thirst for championship gold. So, he has finally gotten it. But, I wonder at what price? 


	2. January 31st '02

January 31, 2002.   
  
It took a couple of months, but Jericho called me. It seems he thought that I had blamed him for my misfourntes. Lita finally had gotten it through his (thick) skull that I never once blamed his sorry ass. And when she told me how she had told him, it made me smile.   
  
  
You see, Jericho had been doing his "I'm better then all of you' garbage in and out of the ring. So his big, overblown egotistical mind frame kind of didn't help him make any friends, and he lost a lot of very good friends along the way. One day Lita got so pissed off at him, that she couldn't take it anymore and got a big needle and deflated his ego. Kidding. But, I'm sure they were thinking of doing that....   
  
What she really did was, one day she went to his locker room and let out all of her feelings for him. The good and the bad. She set him straight about what I blamed for my injuries and what she felt for him. Which made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside that they finally let each other know that the other cared.   
  
  
Where was I? Oh yeah, So Lita (whose been calling me at least once everyday that she got a chance too) told him flat out that I never (to steal from Jericho's collection of quotes) eveeeeeeeeer! Blamed him for anything (Well, I still blame him for that time when I had a match with Angle and Jericho stole all of my pants and I had to go out in Jericho's pants that where 2 sizes to big for me.... But, that's different)   
  
And since he never talked to me during my recovery it turned it out it was because he was afraid I blamed him. And that's why he never called or wrote. So once he figured out that, 'Hey, Benoit would only hate me because neither one of us won the damn Championship Gold when we were fighting Austin' He called me. So now me and him have worked things out and Lita even told me that Jericho has went around to all of his ex-friends and apologized.   
  
Look at all the power little ol' Benoit has. And this is just over the phone. Wait until I come back. Just wait! 


	3. February 10th '02

February 10, 2002  
  
I realized I have neglected you. Sorry, book thing.   
  
Not much has happened. I've been training and sparing, getting ready for when I report back to work. Whenever that will be. Hopefully, for my sanity, soon. My days are becoming mundane. I get up early in the morning, go to my physical fitness center, work until noon, take a hour lunch break, go back to the center, and then at 3 o'clock I go over to a local wrestling ring, and work there until 7. Then I go home, eat a healthy dinner, and if there is no wrestling on, fall fast asleep.   
  
A couple of nights, I didn't even make it to my bed. I would fall asleep on the couch with my hand in my popcorn bowl, and the TV still on. And in between that, I have my resident 'spy' in the WWF call me. But, of course Lita gets mad when I call her my spy, so I keep that pet name mostly to myself. Because no one wants to see her mad.   
  
Oh wait, that's right. Something out of the ordinary did happen. A couple days ago, I was just about to go to bed... Really I was. I had my pink fuzzy bunny slippers on and everything (What? You didn't expect a Rabid Wolverine to wear pink bunny slipper. Everyone knows that bunnies are evil!) and then the phone rang.   
  
So, I thought it was only Lita, and so I made up my mind to tell her I was too sleepy to talk that night. I picked up the phone, and went " 'ello?" And then a deep voice answered, "Is this Benoit?" I thought to myself, 'wow that sounds a lot like... naw... nevermind it couldn't be him' "Yeah. Whose this?" And then the big shock, "Raven."   
  
  
I decided sleep would have to come later, because well... it was Raven.   
  
Hmmm. Let me stop for a moment. You see, Raven is a funny kind of character. And I don't mean funny like Edge and Christian were, or Kanyon. I mean funny like, as in you had no way of knowing what was going on in that big, intellectual head of his. And a lot of times I didn't think I even wanted to know.   
  
When I first met him, he was a twisted version of Kurt Angle's Three I's; intense, intelligent, and insane. Either he's gotten over the last one, or he finally found a way to mask it, I'll never know. People say that I'm like some sort of 'intense' guy. Sure, I had matches with Kurt Angle that lasted over a half hour... But, Raven is more intense then I could ever dream of.   
  
You could beat him senseless with a barbed wire stick (you know, one of those ECW, extreme creations. The barbed wire is wrapped around a big pointy, and splintery piece of jagged wood. Those hurt like hell.) and he wouldn't even go 'Ow.' He was (is?) a masochist. The sheer amount of pain you could inflict on him is amazing.   
  
And, not only was he intense in the ring.... His eyes... Wow. They can stare at you, and you feel like he's reading your soul. Sometimes, he would smile at me during the middle of a tough, grueling match, and I just would get this odd feeling that he knew that I had stolen gum from the local candy store when I was 10 in Alberta. Most guys were freaked out by him.   
  
And he of course, used that to his advantage. He had his Flock, his Nest, all his so-called friends, who really should have been called his minions, because that's what they were. He was perfectly capable of going out and fighting, and winning... but, he would send out his minions to do the dirty work for him.   
  
  
How would I know all this? Because I was one of the few people that actually tried to stop him. Mind you, I didn't pull a Perry Saturn freeing the Flock kinda thing, but I did attempt to kick his ass on many occasions. I won a couple matches vs. him, but I really rarely ever succeeded in kicking his ass.   
  
I will say, that he is one of the few guys who ever really hurt me so bad, that I had to take some time off. And those guys who hurt me that bad, I can count on one hand. And so, the fact that Raven took me out twice should say something.   
  
I kind of got him back, once. I won one of our matches, by having him faint. Excuse me. The more manly term is, 'did not tap out, but slipped into unconsciousness' And the crazy idiot smiled as he went into unconsciousness... SMILED! No one smiles in any of my matches!! Let alone when I'm about to make them going into that woozy state of sleepy time!   
  
  
Needless to say, I respected Raven to a certain degree. But, mostly I think I feared him. Not him so much, as the persona that he had created for himself.   
  
Few men have had as much respect as he has, even though he walks around in a kilt, and goes the Jeff Hardy route of coloring his hair. No one would ever dare say anything ill about him, because he can still kick major ass.   
  
So, I was kinda really shocked by the fact that he called me.   
  
"Hi Raven."   
"Hello Benoit. Listen I've been meaning to call and all. But, I've been busy with work and Molly and trying to teach that Hurricane kid some pointers."   
"Like how to be a glutton for punishment and not feel any pain? Listen, Raven... Don't teach him any pointers, because then -God Save Us All- you'd be making him into a mini-you!"   
  
Raven laughed his scary, deep laugh "Now, that you mention it.. That doesn't sound so bad... Naw, it's been mostly teaching him a few moves, and making sure he doesn't do anything that could endanger my Molly. You know, yelling 'you hurt her, and I will torture you so bad that you'll be screaming for me to kill you' kinda thing."  
  
"Oh, your typical, normal, everyday kind of threat."  
"Exactly. Besides calling to gloat about how I'm training the Hurri-kid... I also called to see how you've been doing."   
"Scouting the competition?"  
"Naw. No matter how much you work at it, you'll never get big enough balls to fight me, and win cleanly."  
"Pfft. Speaking of big balls..."  
"Hey! I enjoy a little friendly, gloating every now and then. So how are you Benoit?"   
"I've had better years."   
"Yeah, I hear you man."   
"Yeah, I haven't seen you on TV anymore since the Alliance broke up. What have you been doing with yourself?"   
"Helping Molly, and Hurri-Shane out. And working in Ohio, and training, and getting ready for when they'll call me back."  
"Aw, you don't have to worry about that. Everyone knows you can still kick major ass... for a dude in a dress..." I couldn't help myself and I had to throw that one in.  
"It's not a dress, it's a kilt. And it's cool! Jonathan Davis has one!"   
"Who?"  
"That's right... I forgot about your horrible tastes in music. Jonathan Davis, the lead singer of KoRn, who just finished doing the music for the movie, Queen of The Damned? Really cool guy, I met him once."   
"My music isn't that bad! At least Brooks and Dunn don't give people headaches like that stuff you listen too!"  
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. The reasoning behind my calling you Chris, was not to disagree over music. Even though, rock will always be better then country. But, anyway. I called too see how you were. Not to scout my future competition, but to see how you're hanging."   
"Another penis reference? Wow. Being around Chris Kanyon must really be wearing off on you, Raven!"   
"Seriously Benyoit.".   
  
I sighed, "I tell ya. I've definitely had better years...."   
"Yeah, we've established the fact that this year seemingly as sucked for the both of us."   
"Yeah. Lately, all I've been doing has been feeling so mundane. The days go by in blurs. I work out. I fall asleep. I wake up. I work out, again. Etc. Etc. But, even though the days seem to be going by in a blur of blinding Benoit light, the days have been going by so slow, if you get what I mean? Even though I've been working out, training, and all... It'll still be awhile until I get back into the ring and am back to my standards."  
"Which are pretty damn high standards to begin with."  
"Exactly. Hey, do you think that when I come back, that the WWF will have an entire monologue of me kicking ass, all while U2 plays?"   
"I see you've been thinking a lot about that, huh."  
"Yeah. I mean Hunter got hurt before me, YET he still was able to rehab faster then me."  
"He's also younger then us. Don't forget that. Sometimes I know I do."   
"Yeah, you and me Raven, we're a dying breed."  
"You mean people who remembered when WCW was good?"  
"Exactly."  
"Well, I am sorry to cut this short my old adversary, but Molly doth call-eth me. Feel better soon, man."  
"Thanks. Hope you get promoted soon."  
"Saaaaay. Speaking of that.... Let's say I do. What say ye if I started the Flock up again? Would you join? Cuz you know I've got Kidman, Kanyon, and Christian all liking the idea. What do ya think?"  
  
Deep sigh. Nothing seems to change. No matter what it is, whenever Raven starts thinking, and being nice to you, there has always been another motive in it for him.   
  
"Erm. I'd have to get back to you on that."  
"Oh yeah. The whole Ric Flair thing. Cool man. Bye."  
"Goodbye Raven."  
  
This should further prove how bored I'm getting. I just wrote out mine and Ravens conversation. I really need to heal a hell of a lot faster then I am all ready. 


End file.
